The other morning, I looked out the window to see Olivia off the nest, sitting on a perch I had nailed to a nearby piling. She was busily preening her feathers. After seven weeks virtually glued to the nest, she had taken on a rumpled and ragged look. I guess she finally felt that the kid(s) could get along without her for a short time while she did some personal grooming without being bothered by her ever-hungry chick(s) clamoring for attention. But she was soon back on the job, trying to shade her offspring from the hot summer sun with her own body, while Oliver sat high up in a nearby shady oak, ready to ward off any intruder.
I’ve still only seen one little head bobbing up above the nest. It must be that it is a lone hatchling. If you remember, Olivia had trouble with her initial eggs and had to start over. I guess she only had one left to deliver, and that was that. This lone hatchling, as every only child, is getting royal attention.
Thus continues Michael Koblos’ 26-week saga of the doings of his nearest osprey family. A 78-year-old retired naval officer, Koblos lives in a small cottage on the water, Home Port, in a place called Cobb Island, located in the wide Potomac River about 50 miles south of Washington, D.C.